


In A Week

by Infamous_society



Series: Wasteland, Baby [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dark fluff, F/M, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Gen, Inspired by a Hozier Song, M/M, Meadow, Riders of Rohan - Freeform, Rohan, Song: In A Week (Hozier), romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:29:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28574559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infamous_society/pseuds/Infamous_society
Summary: Éomer could stay in this meadow forever by your sideA journey through Middle Earth alongside its characters accompanied by Hozier songs.
Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Original Character(s), Éomer Éadig/Original Female Character(s), Éomer Éadig/Reader
Series: Wasteland, Baby [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090121
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	In A Week

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly disturbing fluff. Short and sweet. 
> 
> In A Week by Hozier ft. Karen Cowley

_**Peace** _ _\- (noun) 1. freedom from disturbance; tranquillity  
_ _2\. a state or period in which there is no war or a war has ended._

A gentle wind blew across the grass, cooling your face as you dismounted your horse. The meadow stretched as far as you could see, slowly melting into the mountains. You had ridden from Edoras in the middle of the night, to escape from your duties before day came. Éomer smiled at you, softly, almost wistfully. His mind was troubled even though the shadow had long passed - you knew of the terror he experienced for you experienced it too. You had fought too. But the flowers now blossomed underfoot.   
  


His hand felt warm in yours, evidence that you had in fact survived and you were not dreaming.   
  
“Éomer, what troubles you?” you slowly sat down in the long grass, stretching your stiff legs.

”I am afraid,” His breathing stilled for a second, burying his head into your shoulder, “I- we are of a new line of kings, yet in death I will be in the halls of my ancestors and where will you be? What shall I do if you are not by my side?” 

You pulled away from him for a second. A second to look at him - he was frightened, nervous but still brave and courageous. Many others would have called the king weak to see him like this, yet to you it proved his strength. His blond hair gleamed like the sun, fluttering softly around his shoulders.

“Sauron could not separate us Éomer, I will not let death part us,” you pulled him close, “I shall not leave you, my king.”   
  


He slowly moved backwards until he was laying down, the grass and early sunlight surrounding him. It was slightly damp from the morning dew yet the water droplets on the flowers looked like crowns. He turned to glance at you, the rays of sunrise showering you in gold and rubies. His hand clutched yours. 

“I could stay here for years,” he smiled.

A daisy was next to you, plucking it, you turned to him, amusement on your face, “Weeks perhaps” 

“Millennia.” 

Nimbly, your fingers wove flowers together. The first rays of true daylight cast a glow on Éomer’s face - he looked serene. Eyes closed, basking in gold. A warrior king to be remembered for thousands of years to come. You hummed with satisfaction. 

“My king?” you swung your legs over his body. Allowing a small amount of delight and laughter to creep onto his features he opened his eyes. 

“Éomer,” he chastised, “we are far past formalities, we grew up together.”

You shook your head, a flower crown appeared from behind your back. He didn’t protest as you placed it on his head, perhaps it was at an angle but it made him look regal. You grinned, “My king.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, rolling you into the welcoming grass. Your neck, his shoulders, faint scars that decorated your bodies as if they were marks of union. Eventually you pulled away, gazing adoringly at the man you had loved since childhood. He tugged you back towards him, your head on his chest, his heart beating loud and clear. 

The wind could chill your bones and the sun could scorch your skin, yet still you would not move. Harbingers of death could arrive yet still you would not move. Perhaps the riders would find you, Éomer would be surrounded with all his fineries, a white flower would bloom in front of his tomb yet still you would not move from his side. You would follow wherever he went. 

He shifted slightly beneath you, snapping you out of your trance. His heartbeat had slowed as you realised he was asleep. Peaceful. He almost looked like a boy once again. Flowers still encircled his head, merging into the meadow that surrounded you. The sternness and worry had disappeared from his face. You felt at home as you closed your eyes.   
  


Éomer believed he was dreaming when he woke. Pink, orange, blue flowing across the sky. You in his arms, still, apart from your steady breathing - a smile on your face. A flower tucked behind your ear, his hand in yours clutched tightly against your chest. 

“Perhaps I could stay here forever,” he murmured. 

“Forever is a long time Éomer,” you whispered, sleep thick in your voice. 

“Forever by your side. In peace.”

_The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow._  
_Who shall gather the smoke of the deadwood burning,_  
_Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?_


End file.
